Edie in Between

by Laura Sibson

  “It’s complete.”

  I look at the image of an acorn on my inner forearm, a reminder of my own power and courage. A reminder of my mother.

  “Oh my gods, Rhia, it’s beautiful,” I say. “You’re the best.”

  Rhia smiles as she collects her supplies. “Really? You’re happy with it?”

  “I can’t stop looking at it! You are so talented.”

  “You’ll need to stop looking at it for a couple hours at least,” Rhia says as she spreads antibacterial ointment on it and then covers it with a bandage. Her hands are gentle.

  Rhia strips the gloves from her hands and arches her back in a stretch. My eyes follow the long line of her neck to the deep vee of her T-shirt and the curves hidden beneath. She catches me staring and I don’t bother to hide it the way that I would have a few weeks ago. Life is too short. I stand and realize that I’m stiff, too.

  “Let’s go for a walk,” I say.

  I help Rhia finish gathering her tools and we clean the area before we leave. As we walk off the boat, Rhia catches my hand in hers. She squeezes and I squeeze back.

  “Is this okay?” she asks.

  “More than okay.”

  We head to the bike trail. The hot August sun slants through the trees and wood chips soften our footsteps. When we reach the footbridge, Rhia turns to me, pushing a stray strand of hair from my face. The afternoon sun is warm on my shoulders. My arm stings from the work Rhia did over the past few hours, but I don’t regret a moment of it. Rhia’s fingers are gentle on my cheek. I can’t wait any longer.

  “Would it be okay if I kissed you?” I ask.

  “I was going to ask you the same thing.” Rhia’s smile is soft. “Is she here?” Rhia says, looking around, as if she’d be able to see Mom. “I’d feel weird if she saw us kissing.”

  “She’s not here right now,” I say. “But . . .”

  “But what?” Rhia asks, the question wrinkling her brow.

  I look down, embarrassed. “I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

  Her laugh is full and warm, not at all judgmental, and I can feel my fear melt away. “Let’s fix that,” Rhia says. She leans in without any hesitation and presses her lips to mine. Her lips are so soft, then her tongue coaxes my lips open and I can’t believe I’ve been missing out on this for so long. Rhia wraps her arms around my waist, pulling me to her so that her full breasts press against mine. I run my hands up her back. We bump noses and giggle and we continue kissing. I slide my thigh between her legs. I am tingling all over and I know it has nothing to do with my magic and everything to do with my skin against Rhia’s, my lips on hers, our arms wrapped around one another as if there were no one else in the world.

  But the sounds around us intrude, reminding me that we are entangled in a way that maybe isn’t entirely suitable for a public park. We pull apart.

  My eyes drink her in. “Man, that Wheel of Fortune card wasn’t wrong.”

  “What do you mean?” She twines her hand in mine as we begin to walk again.

  “When we first met, you gave me that card.”

  “I remember.”

  “You said it suggested that there were forces coming at me out of my control and they could be good or bad.” I stop and turn toward her. “You were the good forces out of my control.”

  Rhia’s grin is a little bit wicked. “Maybe not all good.” She leans over to kiss my neck and the sensations that run through my body make me wish that we were somewhere very private.

  Both of our phones ping at the same time and we start to laugh.

  “Leave it to Tess to kill the moment,” Rhia says.

  * * *

  * * *

  Over what’s become a weekly tradition of chicken wings, pizza, and hush puppies, we update one another.

  “How are you doing?” I ask Tess.

  She makes an exaggerated sad face. “I went with Jorge to see him off for boot camp. We’re going to try to stay together, but I don’t know. Long distance seems hard.”

  “Have another hush puppy,” Rhia says. “You need it.”

  “Thanks to running with Edie all summer, my metabolism could burn up all these hush puppies.” She pops one in her mouth.

  “You could join us, Rhee,” I say, picking up a chicken wing. “Tomorrow, eight sharp. Speed workout.”

  I bite the chicken wing and promptly sneeze.

  “Goddess blessings upon you,” Rhia says. “But eight in the morning? Not a chance. You are the most early-bird witch I know.”

  “I’m the only—you know what? Scratch that. After all this, you two are definitely witches.”

  “Yeah, we are!” Rhia says, beaming.

  “Oh, that reminds me,” Tess says. “Rhee and I got you something.”

  “What? I got something for each of you, too!”

  “You first!” Tess hands me a paper gift bag.

  I shake my head. “You two did so much for me this whole time and you barely knew me at all. Now I can’t imagine not having you both in my life.”

  I hand them each a small bag.

  Rhia peers into hers and then gives me a big smile. She pulls out the hollow silver sphere GG had given me just for Rhia. “My own spell ball?”

  I nod.

  She clutches it to her chest. “Thank you.”

  “Me next!” Tess tosses aside tissue paper to pull out the little gift. “Ah! I love it!” She places the hot pink headband on her head. Across her forehead in gold script it says will run for ice cream.

  “Now you. Open it! Open it! Open it!” Tess squeals, jumping up and down.

  Inside the bag is something black. I pull it out to find a tank top with the words 100% that witch on the front in white hand-lettered writing. I start laughing and then all three of us are cackling, and maybe I am the only one here with actual witch DNA, but this summer has shown me that we’re all magical, each in our own way.

  Chapter Forty-One

  EDIE

  “I thought you might want this.” I pull a velvet pouch from my pocket and place it in GG’s hand. Her fingers curl around it and her eyes light up. It’s twilight and GG sits on her rocking chair on the back deck of our boat. I sit on the bench nearby.

  GG tips the velvet pouch into her hand and the simple gold ring spills onto her palm.

  “My wedding ring?” she asks.

  “Yes, I cleansed it.”

  She holds it up between two fingers so that she can peer through the circle. She closes her fingers around it and closes her eyes as well. She presses it to her lips. “Well done. It is cleansed indeed.”

  The ring slips easily onto the ring finger of GG’s left hand.

  “I’m so sorry for your losses,” I say to my grandmother.

  GG nods. “You and I have both born more loss than many others. But I have you.” She reaches out and cups my cheek in her palm.

  “And I have you.” I smile at my grandmother.

  “By the way, how did you figure this one out?” GG asks, tapping the ring.

  “Love, worn in a never-ending circle?” I smile. “Tess figured out that it must be a ring and then I think maybe Mom gave me the final hint.”

  GG sits back in her chair. “What does your future hold, now that you and your friends have mastered all of the magic?” She smiles at me again.

  “Well, I’m not going to go get pregnant and live off the grid, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  GG chuckles. “That doesn’t seem especially likely. What would you like to do?”

  I pause before saying the words. I’m not sure what GG will say. “I want to go back to Baltimore.”

  “I see.”

  “For school. But I want to come live here with you on weekends. And holidays and summers, if that’s okay.”

  “It is.” She smiles at me. “Of cour
se, it is. We will need to figure out your living arrangements.”

  “I’ve thought about that.” I take a moment before I share my idea. “I could board at school,” I say. “If we sell the house, we could afford it.”

  GG inspects me with her sharp eyes. “You’re ready to sell the house?”

  I nod because the rush of emotion clogs my throat. “I know Mom isn’t in that house and I know that the life I lived with her is over. I can’t live in the past. I need to look ahead.”

  GG grabs my hand and squeezes it. “You can’t live in the past, but the past lives in you.”

  “I know.” I’m smiling through tears now. “How could I forget?” I gesture to the ghosts that have been keeping their distance but are now drifting closer. “All of these ancestors here with us. Your parents and cousins. Mildred and Grandfather. And Mom.”

  GG looks around us at all of the ghosts and smiles.

  “About Mom, her anniversary is in a few days.”

  GG nods and knots her hands in her lap. “Yes, this Sunday.”

  “Have you decided what type of tree to plant?” I ask.

  “I thought I’d leave that to you.”

  “What do you think of an ash tree? Near the weeping beech?”

  The beech was showing signs of life, but GG had explained that it would take years to revive and, in the meantime, the soil would be very fertile for new growth.

  “The tree of life. That sounds perfect.”

  * * *

  * * *

  GG, Rhia, Tess, and I are in the kitchen of the houseboat along with many, many ancestors, though, of course, Rhia and Tess can’t see the ghosts. GG is showing Rhia how to prepare a particularly tricky spell to help preserve some of Rhia’s grandmother’s memories before they are all gone. Tess is trying to put a flower crown on Temperance. It is August fifteenth, the one-year anniversary of my mother’s death, and I am putting the finishing touches on a ten-layer cake.

  “What do you think, Mom?” I say to the ghost floating beside me. I know that she will not answer, but I’ve learned that it’s comforting to talk to her. “It’s for you, you know. Well, in honor of you, I guess, since you can’t eat.”

  “Mildred, stop being a busybody!” GG says behind me.

  “Mildred?” Rhia asks.

  “My sister,” GG answers.

  Rhia looks around, pulling her elbows in. “Let me know if I’m stepping on her or anything weird.”

  “They get out of our way,” GG says. “Don’t worry.”

  “You’d be a total queen with the crown on!” Tess says, following Temperance down the hallway.

  “I think that’s it, then,” GG says, giving their pot one last stir.

  “Thanks for the lesson,” Rhia says. “Edie’s inspired me to use all of the knowledge that I have. Not just keep it behind the counter.”

  “Really?” I say. “I thought I was the most scared witch you knew.”

  “Exactly. Feel the fear but do it anyway.” Rhia leans over my shoulder and pecks me on the cheek. I dot her nose with icing. She slides a hand around to my belly sending delicious goose bumps everywhere.

  “Later,” I whisper. Rhia giggles and steps away from me.

  “Are you all ready?” GG asks as she removes her smock.

  “Almost,” I say. I spread the last of the icing across the top of the cake.

  Tess drops the kitty crown on the table. “No luck with Tempy.”

  “Definitely not if you’re calling her that,” I say.

  Tess swipes at some icing dripping from the cake and licks her finger.

  “Hey!” I swat at her.

  “Yum,” she says. She closes her eyes. “So much more than yum, actually.”

  “Yeah, the Ice Cream Alchemist has found her talent,” Rhia says.

  “Because I can bake a good cake?”

  After Tess had mentioned how happy my ice cream customers always seemed to be, Rhia got it in her head that infusing emotions into food was my special talent.

  “Only a witch could bake a deathday cake that tastes like memories.”

  I stand back to examine the whole effect, now that the chocolate icing is finished. It’s a little lopsided, but I don’t care. I’m not so sure I agree with Rhia that I can infuse food with emotion, but she’s not wrong about the memories. As I pulled together all of the ingredients, measured and stirred and baked this cake, I was filled with good memories of Mom. Each layer is a different color, a nod to the quirkiness Mom brought to so many of our shared experiences.

  “It’s ready,” I say to GG.

  “Wonderful,” she says. “Shall we?”

  * * *

  * * *

  When we arrive at the site of the burned beech tree, GG says, “Are we all here?”

  I look around at the large group gathered together. Rhia holds my hand. Tess is on her other side. Jim stands nearby, holding up a sapling. I recognize Ms. Alvarez from the antique store and the woman from the cemetery. Tess’s mom and uncle, who owns this land, are here. Rhia’s mom and grandma are even here. There are other people who I haven’t met yet, but I’m certain that I will.

  “I don’t think there’s anyone else left in town,” Tess says.

  “Let’s begin, then,” GG says.

  GG digs the shovel into the ground and tosses a pile of dirt to the side. She could, of course, just move all the dirt with a flick of her hand. But this is supposed to be a shared experience, and besides, not everyone gathered here knows all about us. GG hands me the shovel and I do the same. The shovel makes its way around the whole circle until we have a hole large enough to plant the sapling. Into the hole, GG pours some water mixed with her own concoction that will soon be for sale at Cosmic Flow. She nods to Jim.

  He lifts the sapling and maneuvers the root ball into the hole. Then we all do the reverse, each tossing one shovelful of dirt back into the hole until the roots are covered. GG and I get on our hands and knees to pat the dirt down, with everyone else joining in.

  “Not too hard,” GG orders us. “Gentle pats. We do not want to suffocate the roots.”

  GG and I sprinkle Mom’s ashes at the base of the new tree. Tess waters it. We stand and grab hands in a circle. When I arrived in Cedar Branch, I was certain that the magical life was not for me. I wanted to be back in the house I’d shared with Mom, running with my cross-country team and trying to score higher on the ACT. I didn’t realize then that my craving for these things was an escape from missing Mom. I couldn’t face the fact that I’d taken Mom’s presence for granted. I’d always thought that she’d be there when I was finally ready to learn the magic. I thought she’d be around forever. And then she wasn’t. And I was stuck in an in-between place, wishing for the past and unable to move forward.

  Now I understand that memories can transcend death. They are their own sort of magic. And I can still learn even without my mother by my side. The absence remains. It won’t ever go away. But as GG had said: grief is a red silk ribbon tied to love. The pain of grief is hard to bear, but it’s also proof that I had a mother who loved me and who I loved. That will always be true.

  “From the earth we come and to the earth we shall return,” GG says. “But in between, may we grow roots to know our past and branches to seek our path forward. May this ash tree honor the memory of Maura Mitchell: daughter, mother, friend. Though her life was cut short, we hold her in our hearts, and we will remember her always as we watch this strong sapling grow into a great tree.”

  GG looks at me and I hold her gaze. “As it is above, so below,” we say together. Rhia hands out flower bombs. Our ancestors surround us. Those I know and many I don’t hover nearby, a reminder of what I am connected to, what lives on through me.

  “For you, Mom,” I whisper. I throw my flower bomb as far as I can and watch where it lands. I can’t wait to come back next year
and see wildflowers covering the burned-out patches of grass. We all gather around the makeshift table and I carve up slices of cake for each person.

  As I stick my fork into the last piece of rainbow cake, the scent of lemons and mint fills the air and Mom shimmers next to me, with her perfect smile and her wild blowing hair. Always with me. Always within me.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Edie’s story has changed dramatically from the first draft that suggested only a hint of magic. The version you hold in your hand is what I needed to write during a time of lockdown and uncertainty. I hope it’s what you’ve needed to read. Books, alas, are not conjured from thin air, they are made real through the work of many people.

  Thanks first to my mother, Kathy Yeager. The initial spark of this book and the first version I wrote were inspired years ago by wondering what it was like for my mother to lose her father when she was just nineteen years old. Only the whisper of that original story is present in this current version. What remained is my interest in exploring how people navigate grief in unexpected ways.

  But my mother inspired more than just the grief narrative. She inspired Maura’s closeness to Edie. She also inspired GG’s magical way with plants. My mother can grow anything. She even seems to bring dead plants back to life. My grandmother, her mother, had the same talent. And this always seemed like a bit of ordinary magic to me.

  And to my uncle, John Harlan. The setting—the Western Shore of the Chesapeake Bay region of Maryland—came directly from my own childhood. When I was young, we camped on a piece of property on the Magothy River, a tributary to the Chesapeake. I have wonderful memories of those days, and in them my beloved Uncle John looms large. He taught me how to paddle a canoe and sail a sunfish; we crabbed and fished. I learned to swim there. My uncle built Adirondack chairs, an outhouse, and eventually even a gazebo! He inspired the sense of place in this novel and specifically the way that Edie’s grandfather could build anything.